Rant #273: Ah, Youth ...

Didn't someone once say that "youth is wasted on the young?"

I think someone did, but I don't know who.

But some young people are making major strides into becoming big stars, and yesterday, young baseball players made it known that their youth was not a detriment to their success.

On the eve of the baseball draft--filled with many more young players who will eventually become stars--the Washington Nationals' super-hyped pitcher Stephen Strasburg won his maiden Major League game, a 5-2 victory over the lowly Pittsburgh Pirates.

The young pitcher, who is only 21 years old, struck out 14 in his debut, and only allowed four hits. He didn't walk anyone.

I guess all the hype was true about this guy. He threw several pitches at 100 miles per hour, and 65 of his 94 pitches were strikes.

Almost forgotten in this hubbub is that another baseball phenom, the Florida Marlins' rightfielder Mike Stanton, also had an impressive debut.

In his team's 10-8 loss to the Philadelphia Phillies, Stanton went three for five with two infield singles, He also scored two runs.

The 20-year-old is projected less as a singles hitter and more as a slugger, but nonetheless, this was another impressive debut.

And it all makes one feel old. Heck, at 53 years old, I am more than twice the age of these two guys. Even if you add up their ages, I am still way older than the two of them put together.

Sure, I had dreams to play Major League Baseball, but I stunk, and I knew I stunk. But I was never the worst player on the field, and I knew that, too. So I played Little League until I was 15 and then called it a day.

This is unlike another very young slugger, the Atlanta Braves' Jason Heyward, has been hyped as baseball's newest power source. He has had a fine season for the surprising Braves, and, to boot, he is the son of someone who lived in my old stomping grounds in Rochdale Village, Queens, New York!

These guys have a chance to be dominant forces in baseball ... and for that, they bear watching for the remainder of the season.

As for Stanton and Strasburg, will their first games be flukes? Can they continue to be successful? We will just have to wait and see. And the same goes for Heyward.

And as an aside to all of this, the news media has just picked up on the fact that the latest Playboy centerfold is the first one who was born in the 1990s!

Ah, youth ...

Rant #272: Walking To 70

We are all growing older. Heck, I can feel it in my bones. I am not 20 years old anymore.

And when one of the icons of your youth turns 70, you have to take notice.

Today is Nancy Sinatra's 70th birthday!

It's hard to believe, isn't it, that Frank's daughter, who turned "These Boots Are Made For Walking" into a worldwide phenomenon, is now the big 7-0.

She was one of the hottest girl singers of the 1960s. She was a Sinatra, so she had to be tough, and unlike a lot of the girl singers of that time, she wasn't fluffy. She was full of poison.

Sure, she had other hits, like "Sugar Town" "Somethin' Stupid" (with her dad) and "The Last of the Secret Agents," but she will be forever known for the "Walking" song, which gave her an image that had escaped her in her early recordings.

The cover of that album is a classic, showing Nancy in a pose that was both provocative and downright perverse at the same time.

And she was in several biker movies. No beach movies for this kid. She was rough and tough, and biker movies suited her just fine.

And although she was not in beach movies--the screen could hold only one siren at a time, and Annette Funicello fit the bill in many ways--Nancy Sinatra looked darn good in a bikini ...

And she looked darned good without a bikini, as she proved in a Playboy pictorial when she was past 50.

She still records to this day, and although being a Sinatra has probably been both a blessing and a curse for her, she has had an incredible career, apart from dad.

Here's wishing Nancy Sinatra many more years of health ...

And keep those boots walking forever.

Rant #271: Happy Anniversary ... To Us

Yesterday was a historic day in the annals of history.

June 6 will forever be known as D-Day, and yesterday was the 66th anniversary of the landings that led to the Allied liberation of France in 1944 during World War II.

That event, in itself, makes June 6 a monumental day for all of us, whether we realize it or not.

But June 6 is also an important day for me, because on that day I got married to my wonderful wife.

I met my wife when I was totally down on my luck. A few months prior to meeting her, I decided to join a dating service, which was pretty progressive for its time, much like sites like Match.com are now. I had been separated from my first wife for a few years, our divorce wasn't finalized yet, but I knew that it would be within time. And it was time for me to move on and start meeting other women.

Then, I got let go by my company after working there for a few years. This happened right before meeting the woman who would later be my wife. I remember that when I was given her number to call, and first called her, I told her right out that I had just lost my job. I wanted to give her an out just in case she wanted one. But she must have believed in me, because she didn't take the out.

We met, had some fun, and started to date, and the rest is history.

And she stuck with me. I was out of work for more than a year. Sure, I had jobs here and there during that time, but nothing steady. I must say that I was doubting myself during this period. The divorce was being held up by my joblessness. I had to prove to the court that I was looking for work. During the year and a half that I was out of steady work, I applied for over 800 positions.

Finally, I got something. It wasn't the greatest job, but it was steady. Once I got that job, everything fell into place, including my divorce, which was finally set into motion and finalized.

During this period, the woman who became my wife could have left me, if for nothing else, out of impatience. But she kept with me, and I guess it paid off for both of us.

We married on June 6, 1993, one of the happiest days of my life. To this day, everybody says I was smiling from ear to ear the entire ceremony, and I probably was. I finally found the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and I guess she found hers.

It was such a windy day when we got married, and we had an outdoor ceremony to boot. Everything was blowing around, it was a bad hair day, but we persevered.

A few years later, we had our son, to go along with my daughter from my first marriage, and then, tragedy struck again; when my son was just a few weeks old, I lost my job.

Happily, this time I was out of work for just about three months. It helped me bond with my son, and then I found the job I still have.

Yesterday, we didn't do much to celebrate. We went to the movies--one of our favorite things to do dating from our courtship--and saw "Robin Hood," which was better than I thought it would be.

On Saturday, we ate out at a restaurant. And "tragedy" struck again--a crown I have had in my mouth for two years or so came out when I was eating flounder. I am going to try to get that fixed today.

But even without the crown in my mouth, my wife sticks by me.

She is the best.

And even without the crown, she makes me feel like a king.

Rant #270: Yer Out!

As a baseball fan, I had to cringe when veteran umpire Jim Joyce called the Cleveland Indians' Jason Donald safe during a game where Detroit Tigers' pitcher Armando Galarraga was on the verge of pitching a perfect game.

And cringe I did, because the call was wrong.

But in the aftermath of this error--on the umpire this time--I think, for once, Major League Baseball got it all right.

I was watching the Yankees drubbing the Orioles again, and when I heard that Galarraga was in the midst of this gem, I turned over to the MLB Network to see the last three outs.

The first was routine, the second less so. Unfortunately, lost because of the umpire misplay was an absolutely fantastic catch by the Tigers' centerfielder, Austin Jackson. If this were a perfect world, Jackson's catch for the second out would have gone into the history books as the catch that saved the perfect game.

Well, onto what should have been the third out. Donald hit the ball to the right side. The first baseman ranged way to far to his right to grab the ball, and he threw to first, where Galaragga snared the ball, put his foot on the bag a clear step ahead of Donald, and that was it.

But Joyce called the runner safe!

No, this could not be! But it was.

The next out was recorded, and Galaragga had a one-hitter. Not nearly as good as a perfect game, but still pretty good.

Well, after the game, Joyce, a veteran umpire who is probably one of the best in the business, admitted that he blew the call.

Galaragga, almost understandably, blew his stack.

But evidently, both made their amends to each other.

Before yesterday's game, Galaragga was presented with a car, which I am sure soothed his wound a little bit (but he can probably afford this car himself--he should donate it to a worthy cause). He also carried out the lineup card, and presented it to Joyce, who was behind the plate for this game. They jokingly patted each other on the head, and that was that.

Baseball looked into this, and for once, Bud Selig made the right call. He decided that the game would stand as it is, and go down as a one-hitter.

Frankly, if he would have rescinded Joyce's call, it would have cast a pall on the integrity of baseball's umpires. It would have also opened a Pandora's Box of problems, being that any call, play or incident in a baseball game could be open to question.

In a game that is full of judgment calls that are about 98 percent correct, you really can't have that.

Baseball will look into the extended use of instant replay, though, which I think is an idea whose time has come.

I have one question which I don't think has been brought up by anybody about this unfortunate incident.

Why didn't the crew chief reverse the call himself?

I don't know who the crew chief was, but it was not Joyce. In other sports--most noticeably in pro basketball--the other referees defer to the crew chief. I have seen many basketball games where the crew chief over-rules the other official, and you don't hear a peep about it.

However, in baseball, you rarely ever see that happen.

I think it is some unwritten rule in baseball that one umpire does not upstage the other, and that is why you rarely see this happen.

Well, it should have happened during this game, because it stole a once-in-a-lifetime moment from a young pitcher, and it made a veteran umpire look like a Little League once-a-weeker.

What a shame!

Rant #269: Bark! You Have Cancer!

Dog's are known as man's best friend, and based on a recent report from Parisian researchers, they potentially are REALLY our best friends.

According to the researchers, dogs can be trained to detect the characteristic odor of unique chemicals released into urine by prostate tumors.

Evidently, many cancerous tumors--not just from the prostate, but from other areas, including the breast and lung--release odors that can be detected by the extremely sensitive canine nose.

According to the researchers, it takes a year to train dogs to detect such odors, and their detection methods can be more reliable than those of the current tests that are used to detect such cancers.

Well, once again, dogs have been found to be the most helpful of all animals in keeping humans healthy and happy.

This does not surprise me. They say animals have no souls, and I completely disagree with that when it comes to dogs. If they didn't, then they wouldn't be so attuned to human beings.

They are the most dedicated of all animals to humans. Sure, they rely on us for everything they have, but they give back too.

When I see my dog, Max (not pictured), smile as he gets petted, or after we take him out to do his thing, I know that this dog has a soul.

He feels the love that we give him every day. He is nothing more than what you would call a house dog, but I swear he understands everything I say to him.

He is part of our family, and at 14 years old, you won't find a more trusted pet than Max.

And again, I am not an animal lover, per se.

But this pet is something else.

And now, if dogs can be trained to detect such cancers, wouldn't they be more than pets?

They would be our protectors, which would suit my family--and Max--just fine.

Rant #268: Still Lost

Now that we are over a week removed from the "Lost" finale, I think it is time that I dissected the final plot nuances, the plot devices used, the metaphors and similes, the ...

No, I won't do that here.

As I said in a previous rant, I found "Lost" to be an intriguing show that kind of went off the deep end, and I am going to stay with that summation. The best seasons were the first and second, as the main crux of what was going on--the plane crashing and the castaways looking to do what they could to get off the island--were explored during this period.

Once they got into season three, things went haywire, the show lost a lot of its audience, and even those that stayed with the show had to scratch their heads at what was supposedly going on.

The final show did nothing to clear very much up, and left some loose ends that, well, if you want to believe the people involved with the show, are there for the audience to figure out themselves.

I guess that since this group had such a horrific experience together when they died in the plane crash--or at least as a result of the plane crash--that they had to go together as a group to heaven.

And that included those that they connected with, including loves and babies.

But they had to meet some challenges head-on to prove that they deserved a place behind the pearly gates.

One they met those challenges, the door was open to them--but they went in as a group.

Ben could not go with them because he never made the same physical and emotional connection with them that they had. He also had not yet met his challenges head-on like they did. His time would come later.

That is my reading of the last episode. We can argue until the end of our own time what it really meant. I think it is way open for interpretation.

Let me say that my favorite character on the show was Hurley. I thought that character was the moral compass of the island, its conscience, and the character ended up being the island's No. 1 protector. He never meant to be the hero, but he was one at the end.

Well, that's it. There really isn't much more to say about it ...

Although I am sure that it isn't the last word we will hear about the show.

And what of the actors who starred in the show?

Most, if not all, were unknowns or B-level actors. Sometimes a show like this tends to limit its actors when they want to do other things, typecasting them out of roles that they want.

I hope it doesn't happen to this group. You can tell that they embraced their roles, embraced the stardom that came from these roles, and I hope to see them do other things in the future that are not limited by what they've done in the past.

Will their abilities get "lost" now that the show is over?

Let's hope not.

Now, what about the smoke monster ...

Rant #267: Peace ... And Then Back To Work

I know that Memorial Day is supposed to be a day that we celebrate all of our service members that have fought for this country in all of its wars and conflicts.

I know that we should take a moment and try to understand that without our service people's efforts, we would not enjoy the freedoms that we have.

I know, I know ...

But let's be honest about it, for most of us, Memorial Day means that summer is right around the corner.

The holiday welcomes in summer with beachgoing, barbecues and baseball, all of which my family and I did this holiday weekend.

We watched baseball on TV. We will be going to Yankee Stadium in two weeks, so watching baseball on TV just pumped us up for that game.

We had a barbecue yesterday, nothing too large, but it went very well, pumping us up for the major barbecue we are going to have on July 10 for my old community's reunion.

And we went to the beach, but not to swim, as we visited Montauk Point--the home of the fabled lighthouse and the absolute end of Long Island. You can't swim there, but you can relax, and although we were there for maybe two hours, that is what we tried to do.

About Montauk Point ... it is slightly less than 100 miles to there from where we live, and we hadn't visited there in six or seven years, or when my son was half the age he is now. We brought a picnic lunch, and we sat on the beach for quite a long time. You can't swim there--it is not allowed and it is very rocky anyway--but you can sit there to look out at the vast ocean. You can see boaters lolling the day away, and others fishing, hoping to make that big catch.

You can also visit the actual lighthouse, which we did several years ago. I think my son got claustrophobia inside there, as it is very tight and there is not much breathing room.

This time, we didn't go inside. It was so nice outside--maybe in the low 80s with a breeze and little or no humidity--that we decided there was no reason to go inside.

We left in the middle of the afternoon, and stopped at a Carvel where we bought some ice cream--or I thought we were buying ice cream. My wife and son got what they wanted, and I asked for a vanilla shake. They made it for me, but after one sip, I tasted bad milk--it was sour as all hell--and gave it back to them. They didn't offer me another one, nor did they throw out the milk that they used for my sour shake. They didn't charge me, and I wouldn't have paid for it if they had.

Yesterday, on the actual holiday, in addition to the barbecue, we visited an old friend who is in the hospital. It is never nice visiting a hospital, especially for someone who is truly sick, but I am sure our visit--actually my wife visited, my son and I sat in the waiting area--brightened up my wife's friend's day.

That brought me back to reality.

Sure, I had the actual holiday to rest, but today, it's back to work. No more relaxing on the beach, no more barbecues (for now), and I can watch baseball tonight on TV as we get closer to the day we actually go to the game.

It is supposed to rain today, which I hope does not happen, because my son has his last track meet of the school year this afternoon. He won the 55 meter race the last time out, so I would love it if they somehow held it today. But it is supposed to be miserable ...

And yes, work and misery go hand in hand.

I have to keep telling myself, "Vacation comes at the end of next month ... You are getting closer to vacation ... It will be here before you know it ... "

Yes, I have to keep telling myself that. Repeatedly.